


Suggestion

by telperion_15



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Dubious Consent, Episode Tag, First Time, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-23
Updated: 2010-05-23
Packaged: 2017-10-09 16:23:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/89372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telperion_15/pseuds/telperion_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney's little stunt reveals an unexpected truth. Episode tag for 'Irresistable'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suggestion

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for 'Irresistible' and 'Trinity'

Rodney skidded to halt outside his quarters, waving his hand madly over the console and hurrying inside before the door had even opened properly.

His first reaction to Elizabeth’s admonishment about the use of the potion was to wave it off, and possibly even sulk a little about having his fun ruined. After all, where was the harm? It wasn’t like he was going to influence a whole community of people into obeying his every whim, like Lucius had. No, he was just having a little fun, that was all. No one was going to get hurt.

But then, as he’d been making his way somewhat mutinously towards his lab to destroy the rest of the herb, he’d started to think about how Sheppard might react when he recovered from his artificially induced ‘helpfulness’. How the colonel was liable to be rather annoyed by Rodney’s fun, and how in fact _Rodney_ might end up being the one getting hurt. In a ‘Sheppard taking Ronon’s gun and blasting him into the middle of next week’ kind of way.

_That_ had caused an abrupt change in direction. The herb could wait – he needed to find Sheppard now.

By the time he’d reached his quarters he was practically running.

“Colonel!” he said urgently, as he hurtled through the door. “Stop, you don’t have to clean…” Then he trailed off as he noticed that the room appeared to be empty. Rodney frowned. Where was Sheppard? Had the potion worn off already? Was the colonel back in his own quarters? Or maybe in the infirmary? Or worse, was he stalking Atlantis looking for one Dr. McKay so he could make his displeasure at being put under the influence of an alien drug emphatically, and painfully, clear?

“Oh, there you are.”

Rodney nearly jumped out of his skin as Sheppard suddenly popped up from behind the bed, holding, of all things, a sock. Distractedly, Rodney recognised it as one of his special thermal ones that had been missing for the past couple of weeks. But his relief at its reappearance paled into insignificance next to his alarm as Sheppard got to his feet and made a beeline for the pile of dirty laundry in the corner of the room, the one that Rodney really had been meaning to get around to doing something about for the past few days.

“No!” Rodney leapt between Sheppard and his target. “I mean, that’s really not necessary. You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s fine, Rodney,” Sheppard said, smiling in manner that was scarily reminiscent of a Stepford Wife. “It would be my pleasure.”

“I sincerely doubt that,” Rodney snapped. “Look, I’ve changed my mind. I don’t need the cleaning doing any more.”

“Oh.” Now Sheppard looked faintly confused. “Well, in that case, maybe I can do something else for you instead?”

Rodney ignored all the helpful ideas that his brain suddenly presented to him with what he considered to be admirable willpower, and shook his head. “No, really, everything’s fine. You can just go. In fact, I think you should take a trip to the infirmary and see Carson.”

“And why would I want to that? I feel fine, McKay. And besides, when I said anything else, I meant _anything_ else.” Sheppard tossed the sock away over his shoulder, the expression on his face making Rodney swallow and flush slightly. Suddenly the atmosphere in the room was rather different. It felt about ten degrees hotter than it had been a moment ago, and Rodney wondered how they’d managed to make the leap from cleaning to _this_ quite so fast.

Not that he was quite sure what ‘this’ was as yet.

“Er…”

“Come on, McKay, tell me what you want,” Sheppard continued, raising an eyebrow and prowling towards Rodney.

“Oh god…” Rodney backed up hastily, once again ignoring his brain’s helpful, rather graphic, and highly inappropriate, suggestions. “Look, Colonel, this really shouldn’t be happening. I think you need to…”

He didn’t realise that he’d reached the wall until he felt it against his back, and suddenly there was nowhere else to go. Sheppard was right in front of him now, eyeing him appreciatively, and Rodney swallowed again.

_Would it be so bad?_ a little voice in his head whispered. _He wants it, and you know you do to…_

But then an image of Elizabeth’s disappointed and disgusted face popped into his head, and Rodney knew he would never get away with it. Not to mention the pain he was sure Sheppard would inflict on him if he let it happen. And since he suspected that the amount of pain would be directly proportional to the gravity of the transgression, he was pretty sure he would end up with some kind of permanent scarring, if not a shallow grave somewhere on the mainland. He rather thought drugging Atlantis’s ranking military officer into sleeping with him would earn him a worse punishment than drugging him into simply cleaning his quarters.

Just as Sheppard started to lean in, Rodney took advantage of the colonel’s slight preoccupation with Rodney’s mouth and slid away to the left, scuttling around behind Sheppard as he touched his earpiece.

“Carson, you need to come to my quarters right now! And make sure you bring a hefty dose of the serum with you.”

Beckett’s voice sounded faintly amused when he replied. “Aye, all right, I’ll be as quick as I can.”

“Make it quicker,” Rodney said, as Sheppard came towards him once again. “Like right now would be really good.”

“I’m on my way, Rodney,” Beckett said patiently. “Just don’t let Colonel Sheppard do anything stupid in the meantime.”

“Easier said than done,” Rodney muttered, dodging Sheppard’s reaching arms. But this time he wasn’t quite nimble enough, and Sheppard caught his wrist, reeling him in with scary efficiency.

“Got you at last,” Sheppard growled, smirking at him. “You don’t have to play hard to get, you know.”

“I really, really think I do,” Rodney replied. “You’ll thank me for it in the morning, I promise.”

“I’m afraid I can’t agree,” Sheppard said seriously. “I’d really rather thank you now.”

And then, before Rodney could make any further protests, Sheppard kissed him.

*~*~*~*~*

While Rodney didn’t want to think of himself as a coward, there was no getting away from the fact that he was hiding. In this instance, hiding looked very much like working in his lab, but he _was_ hiding nonetheless.

Still, at least it meant he was getting a lot done.

If he thought about it, he could still remember the feeling of Sheppard’s lips against his, for that brief moment they’d been connected. But he wasn’t allowing himself to think about it, and every time the memory threatened to surface, he resolutely pushed it away and concentrated on rechecking his latest set of calculations.

What he _couldn’t_ forget, however, were his simultaneous feelings of relief and disappointment when the door-chime sounded, and his tiny moment of hesitation before he’d pulled away from Sheppard as much as he could and yelled, “Come in!”

He’d used Sheppard’s momentary distraction at the arrival of a visitor to disentangle himself from the colonel altogether before the door opened to reveal Carson, the doctor grinning all over his smug Scottish face as he stepped into the room.

The next five minutes had been absolute torture for Rodney, as Carson had persuaded Sheppard that he really needed to sit quietly and take his injection like a man, while Sheppard had quite clearly been more interested in continuing what he’d started with Rodney.

Carson hadn’t failed to notice, and after a couple of raised eyebrows at Sheppard’s behaviour, he’d proceeded to subject Rodney to a series of what Rodney suspected were supposed to be incredibly witty and clever remarks.

All of which had wound Rodney up to the point that he’d eventually, out of sheer desperation, snapped at Sheppard, “Oh, just take your medicine, Colonel. Then we can continue where we left off.”

Beckett’s eyebrows had shot up again at that, but thankfully he didn’t actually question specifically what Rodney meant by his promise. It worked, in any case. Sheppard let himself be injected with the serum, and Rodney had breathed a heartfelt sigh of relief.

Carson had taken pity on him at that point (_finally_), and led Sheppard away as the serum started to take effect – the colonel suddenly much less inclined to go anywhere near Rodney as the influence of Lucius’s potion started to wear off.

And then it was over.

Except, obviously, it wasn’t. Hence the fact that he was ‘hiding’ in his lab. He wasn’t sure he could look Sheppard in the eye ever again.

“_McKay!_”

Rodney started violently, nearly tipping the cup of coffee he was holding all over his laptop. With shaking hands he set it down carefully a safe distance away, and then turned reluctantly to look at Sheppard standing in the doorway, his face like thunder.

“What the _hell_ did you think you were playing at?”

Rodney scrambled hurriedly out of his seat and backed away as Sheppard stalked towards him, his face promising the extreme and painful violence that Rodney had anticipated the day before.

“I…well…I…look, Colonel, I’m really, really sorry, okay?”

Sheppard was closing the distance rapidly, and Rodney suddenly realised there was no escape from this. He halted his own backwards progress abruptly, and screwed his eyes closed.

“Okay, okay, let’s get this over with,” he said miserably. “I deserve it, I know. Just maybe…not the face, okay?”

He braced himself, waiting for Sheppard’s fist to come into contact with some part of his body, but when after a few seconds nothing had happened, he risked cracking one eye open again, and saw that Sheppard had come to a stop several feet away, and was regarding him with a faintly confused expression.

“Oh.” Rodney opened both eyes properly, feeling the surprise that crossed his own features. “Aren’t you going to…?” He knew he was asking for trouble, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.

Sheppard shook his head once, fiercely, his face still uncertain, although his voice when he spoke still came out in the standard Sheppard drawl.

“Relax, McKay, I wasn’t going to hit you.”

This was so blatantly untrue that Rodney couldn’t stop the disbelieving eyebrows that shot up towards his hairline. Sheppard has the grace to look slightly abashed.

“Okay, so I was _thinking_ about it, but I think we’ll both agree that I would be within my rights, yes?”

Rodney decided not to point out that the US military, not to mention Elizabeth, might not see it that way, and just nodded instead.

“I’m really very sorry,” he said again. “It was only supposed to be a joke. I just wanted you to…I didn’t mean it to go so far.”

Sheppard suddenly looked deeply uncomfortable, as if he’d just been reminded of what had happened between them, and once again confusion clouded his features. “It’s fine, McKay,” he said hurriedly, in such a rapid about-face from his earlier anger that Rodney’s head span. “Just…don’t do it again, okay?”

“Of course not. I…”

But Sheppard had turned on his heel and left the room. He almost looked as if he was running from something.

Rodney frowned. _That was weird._

*~*~*~*~*

Over the next week Rodney didn’t see too much of the colonel, except in the morning briefings, once or twice in the mess hall, and on their one (very dull for once, as it turned out) scheduled mission. He didn’t think too much of it at first – Sheppard was probably still pissed at him, as he had every right to be, albeit he was still perfectly civil in any professional contact they’d had. Rodney didn’t enjoy getting the cold shoulder, but he couldn’t deny that he deserved it.

But when after two weeks there was still a conspicuously Sheppard-shaped hole in his life, Rodney started to wonder. Sheppard wasn’t the kind of person to hold an extended grudge – hell, even the Doranda incident had only got him a week of the silent treatment coupled with some disappointed looks before the colonel had been unable to stop himself slipping back into their usual routine of banter and sniping.

But this was different. Sheppard’s odd behaviour ‘the morning after’, which Rodney had all but forgotten in his assumptions of the colonel’s anger, dragged itself back to the forefront of Rodney’s mind, and he started to wonder just what exactly had been going through Sheppard’s mind during parts of that conversation.

So, like a good little scientist, Rodney decided to approach the problem logically. He made a list.

_1) Sheppard is angry with me._

Well duh. A blind, deaf, and dumb mouse could have figured that one out.

_2) Sheppard’s angry with me because I made him lose control._

Again, no points allowed for stating the obvious.

_3) Sheppard’s angry with me because, under the influence of the drug, he decided it would be a good idea to throw himself at me._

And Sheppard would never do a thing like that ordinarily.

Okay, so maybe the list wasn’t working. Rodney wasn’t figuring out anything he didn’t already know.

Then he thought of something.

_What about all of Lucius’s women? Were they throwing themselves at him?_

Rodney wracked his brains. Sure, Lucius had clicked his fingers and one of his lady friends had come running. But had they ever come running without the finger clicking? Had they every showed any independent desire to be with Lucius even though they were under the influence of his voodoo drug?

Frowning, Rodney tried to remember. Sure, they’d all wept and wailed when he was gone, laughed at his jokes and stories, and made big eyes at him when he’d paid them attention, but that was it, right? Because otherwise surely Lucius would have been buried under a scrum of women all the time. And even the thought of that made Rodney feel a little bit sick.

Rodney’s eyes widened as he found himself at the conclusion of his musings. If the potion hadn’t provoked independent action in Lucius’s lovelies but it had in Sheppard, that meant there had to be some kind of underlying impetus to Sheppard’s come on the other night. And underlying impetus such as…

Oh. _Oh._

Now that could explain everything.

*~*~*~*~*

Rodney tossed the little glass vial between his fingers a few more times, and then set it down next to his laptop as Sheppard appeared in the doorway of his lab. He saw the colonel register the vial’s presence, his eyes narrowing for a split second, before he looked back up a Rodney, a scowl gracing his features.

“What do you want, McKay? What’s so important that you had to drag me all the way down here? You better not want me to play light switch for you, because I’ve got far more important things to be doing.”

“Relax, Colonel, I don’t want you to ‘play light switch’, as you so elegantly put it,” Rodney replied. “I need to ask you something.”

“Well, can you hurry it up, because…”

Sheppard’s sentence came to an abrupt halt in the middle as Rodney picked up the vial again and waved it at him.

“Do you know what this is?”

The colonel’s scowl deepened. “It looks like a bottle of Lucius’s potion.”

“Correct. And if, hypothetically, I were to drink this right now, what would happen?”

“McKay,” Sheppard growled, the _hurry up and get to the point_ audible even though he didn’t say it.

“Humour me and answer the question, will you?”

“What would happen is, I’d pull the fastest disappearing act ever seen on Atlantis,” Sheppard said, biting off each word grudgingly as his body visibly went into flight mode. “I do _not_ want to end up cleaning your quarters again.”

“And what if you couldn’t leave?” Rodney asked, the picture of innocence.

“Well, since this is only a _hypothetical_ situation, I _can_ leave, so the point is moot,” Sheppard retorted, his patience clearly at an end. But as he turned to leave, Rodney hit a button on his laptop, and the door swished closed.

There was a moment’s pause in which Sheppard was obviously thinking furiously at the door, willing it to open, but when it remained resolutely shut he swung round again and threw a furious look at Rodney.

“What the hell have you done? Why won’t the door open?”

“Oh, that.” Rodney waved an airy hand, trying not to betray the slight apprehension that Sheppard’s death glare was giving rise to. “There’s a slight glitch in the subroutine that may or may not have been put there by me. You can’t think it open this time, colonel.”

“Rodney, open the damn door _right now_.”

“No can do, I’m afraid. And the question still stands, you know.”

“McKay, so help me, if you don’t…”

“Okay, so how about we make the situation even less hypothetical, hmmm?” Moving quickly, he unstoppered the vial and swiftly tipped the contents down his throat. Then he looked at Sheppard, whose face was registering a mixture of shock, anger, and deep discomfort. “Now what are you going to do, Colonel?”

Sheppard appeared to be having difficulty forming any words that would sufficiently express his thoughts on the matter. But after a few seconds of staring disbelievingly at Rodney, he eventually raised his hand to his earpiece, tapping it sharply.

“Sheppard to Weir. I need you, Zelenka, and Carson to come to Dr. McKay’s lab right away and…”

“Pointless, Colonel,” Rodney sing-songed. “She can’t hear you. There’s a jamming signal around this room. Don’t worry, it’s only one way. It effectively deadens outgoing transmissions, but we’ll still be able to hear Elizabeth and the others if we’re needed.” He smiled. “I can be really quite clever sometimes, you know.”

Sheppard’s expression was now not so much angry as murderous, and Rodney’s apprehension dialled itself up a notch. But he was pleased to note that Sheppard was remaining where he was by the door, as if he hoped the extra distance might make him immune to Rodney’s enhanced pheromones.

“So, now that we find ourselves in this little predicament, maybe you’d like to answer the question?” Rodney said. “It’s become rather more urgent now, after all.”

“Elizabeth is going to kill you,” Sheppard replied tightly. “Hell, _I’m_ going to kill you.”

But he still didn’t move.

“Take a load off, Colonel,” Rodney invited, waving at a chair positioned about halfway between them. “We could be here a while.”

Sheppard’s fingers twitched, as if he was imagining wrapping them around Rodney’s neck, and then he darted forwards, grabbing the chair and pulling it backwards to what he obviously considered to be a safe distance. Rodney flashed him a brief smile, and then turned his attention to his laptop, humming unconcernedly as he continued his work, and resolutely ignoring Colonel Sheppard glowering at him.

_How long will it take, I wonder?_

“Why are you doing this, McKay?”

_Only seven minutes. I’m almost disappointed. I thought the military were supposed to be able to handle pressure better that that._

“Just a little experiment, Colonel,” Rodney replied, not looking up. “I’m testing a hypothesis.”

“And what hypothesis would that be?” Sheppard asked, sounding curious despite himself.

“Can’t tell you that. It might affect the outcome.”

There was the sound of wheels rolling across the floor as Sheppard scooted the chair a tiny bit closer in his exasperation. “You better not be planning to have me clean this place up,” he retorted. “It’s even worse than your quarters.”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Rodney said. “And besides,” he gestured at the clutter surrounding them, “there’s method in this madness. Tidying would ruin my system.”

Sheppard snorted. “Method. Right…” he drawled, stretching the second word out sceptically.

There were a few more moments of silence, and then, “You could have least made sure there was something for me to do while you keep me prisoner,” Sheppard complained. “A book or something would have done.”

Rodney grinned a little. “Well, since you’re here, you could always play light switch,” he suggested impishly. “I have a few things that could do with your magic touch.”

Sheppard rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Fine, whatever. Toss them over, then.”

“I don’t think you want me to do that,” Rodney replied, pointing to a large, cube-shaped device sitting on a lab bench. “That might hurt quite a lot if I were to ‘toss it over’. And that’s even supposing I could pick it up in the first place.”

Sheppard gave him a look, and then grudgingly hauled himself to his feet and crossed to the unidentified Ancient device. “Anywhere in particular you’d like me to touch it?” he asked. His left eyebrow quirked up suggestively as he spoke, and Rodney felt an inward flash of glee.

“Anywhere on the side facing you will be fine,” he said, keeping his features and neutral as he could. He was fully expecting the complete lack of reaction from the object when Sheppard touched it, having already determined that it’s power supply was exhausted, but Sheppard didn’t need to know _that_. “Nothing. Oh well, never mind. Are you feeling any effects yet, by the way, Colonel?”

Sheppard started at the question, the tips of his ears turning red. “No, I don’t think…look, I don’t know, okay,” he retorted. “How fast exactly does this stuff take effect, anyway?”

“I’m not sure,” Rodney mused. “It may depend on the dose. And I did take rather a large one…”

More of Sheppard’s skin flushed pink, whether in embarrassment or anger Rodney couldn’t tell.

“Here,” he said, holding out a much smaller, oval-shaped device, “can you try this one next?” This device’s power was also drained, meaning that Rodney’s own ATA gene was having no effect on it as he held it. Luckily, in his agitated state Sheppard didn’t put two and two together, something that Rodney had been counting on.

Without thinking, the colonel crossed the room and reached out to take the object from Rodney. But as their fingers touched he froze suddenly, eyes drawn downwards to where they were connected. Rodney held his breath. This was going to go one of two ways…

“Dammit, McKay,” muttered Sheppard suddenly. Snatching the device away, he dumped it on the bench top and then moved in for the kill, grabbing the collar of Rodney’s jacket and hauling him out of his chair so he could lay a hard, bruising kiss on him.

Despite his planning, despite this theorising, despite this outcome being what he’d been _hoping_ for, Rodney was still taken a little by surprise, his arms flailing slightly as he tried to regain his balance, and the abruptness of Sheppard’s action such that it took him a few seconds to get with the programme.

As it was, he’d only just caught up with events before Sheppard jerked away suddenly, Rodney’s balance suffering again as he was left with nothing to lean against.

“Crap,” Sheppard was mumbling. “Rodney, I am so going to kick your ass for doing this to me.”

But Rodney wasn’t listening. “I knew it!” he said triumphantly, taking the option of falling back into his chair as the safest way to avoid ending up in a heap on the floor. “It worked!”

“Well, of course it damn well worked,” Sheppard snapped. “We knew that already, McKay.” He stabbed an irate finger at Rodney. “Just what were you hoping to prove with this little stunt? And don’t give me that bullshit about affecting the outcome again. You’re going to tell me right now.”

Rodney scooped up the empty vial from the bench and grinned at Sheppard. “What I was hoping to prove,” he said gleefully, “is that you don’t need to be under the influence of an alien drug or enhanced pheromones to do what you just did.”

Sheppard’s eyes narrowed. “What the hell are you talking about?” he asked dangerously. “Of course I was under the influence of the pheromones.”

“Actually, you weren’t,” Rodney said, his grin widening. “The vial didn’t contain Lucius’s potion. It was water, that’s all. Simple, unadulterated water.”

“What?” Sheppard appeared to be having trouble grasping Rodney’s meaning. “So what the hell just happened here?”

“The power of suggestion is a wonderful thing,” Rodney replied. He hesitated for a moment, and then decided to take the plunge. “You have feelings for me – feelings stronger than the military CO of Atlantis should have for his head scientist – but you refuse to act on them. But when you thought I’d taken the potion, your subconscious convinced you you were under its influence, thereby allowing you to, er, kiss me.”

Sheppard’s glare was back. “You tricked me,” he said, in a low, dangerous voice. “You damn well tricked me!”

“Would you have admitted it any other way?” Rodney shot back.

“I’m not admitting it _now_,” Sheppard ground out.

Rodney just gave him a look. “Are you really going to stand there and deny it, Sheppard? After what just happened?”

There was a pause, in which Rodney suddenly wondered whether now was the moment that Sheppard was going to punch him. Surreptitiously, he braced himself.

Then Sheppard sighed, the action releasing all the tension from him in one big rush. “No,” he said quietly. “No, I’m not.” He looked at Rodney sharply. “But that doesn’t mean I appreciate being the butt of one of your little experiments. I’m still going to kick your ass for that.”

Rodney blinked. “Oh, you really _are_ that stupid,” he said wonderingly. “I thought it was just a flyboy act or something.”

“McKay,” Sheppard said warningly. “I’m already on a hair trigger here…”

Rodney hopped off his chair and crossed the room to where Sheppard was hovering, resolutely ignoring the ‘don’t mess with me’ vibes pouring off the colonel. “You think I did all this just for my own _amusement_?” he asked disbelievingly. “Just so I could prove a point?”

“Well, yes, why else would you…?”

“You idiot.” And Rodney kissed him.

This time it was Sheppard who took a few seconds to get with the programme, but once he did Rodney discovered that actually he wasn’t all that bothered about the edge of a lab bench pressing into his back, and that actually all that ridiculously messy hair of Sheppard’s was rather good for grabbing on to, and that…

“Weir to Sheppard.”

Elizabeth’s voice was startlingly loud in both their earpieces, and Sheppard made a frustrated noise in his throat as drew away, leaving Rodney feeling slightly dazed, and more than a little cold at the sudden loss of contact.

“Sheppard here. What can I do for you, Elizabeth?”

“John, where have you been? I’ve been trying to contact you for the past ten minutes.”

Sheppard turned to Rodney and glared at him. “I thought you said the jamming signal would let incoming transmissions through?” he whispered in annoyance.

Rodney shrugged sheepishly. “It’s only about seventy percent effective,” he admitted.

Sheppard shook his head in exasperation, and then turned his attention back to his conversation with Elizabeth. “I’m in McKay’s lab,” he said. “Sorry, there must be a problem with my radio. I’ll get McKay to look at it. What do you need?”

“Nothing urgent,” Elizabeth replied. “I was just worried when I couldn’t contact you. But if you could find your way to my office at some point in the next hour, I need to have a chat with you about something.”

“Sure thing. Sheppard out.”

“I know, I know, I’ll turn off the jamming signal,” Rodney said instantly, when Sheppard looked at him again. “And I’ll unlock the door too. Then you can go and see Elizabeth.”

“Leave it.”

“What?”

“I said, leave it locked,” Sheppard repeated. He smiled in a way that made Rodney equal parts scared and aroused. “I don’t have to see Elizabeth for an hour, and I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh yes? What about?” Rodney decided to pretend that his voice hadn’t cracked on that last word.

“This power of suggestion thing,” Sheppard said slowly, as he moved towards Rodney again. “Why don’t you tell me how it works? Because I’ve got some suggestions that I think you’ll find very powerful…”


End file.
